Tropical Green Smoothie w/ Iron

1 c. SO Delicious Original Coconutmilk
1/2 frozen banana
1/2 c. frozen mango
1 heaping handful of baby spinach (1.5 cups)
A few drops of coconut extract

Blend until combined. Add a few ice cubes through the top of the blender (if you keep the little top circular piece out it helps the airflow and blending). Pour and enjoy.

200 calories

April Photo Drop

Springtime Fun with Hamways

Owen only wanted Alexa. So did James, but they didn't stand still long enough for a picture. This is at Olivia's big party.

And this is my sweet little one-year-old goddaughter on her very first birth DAY!

We stick our tongues out at each other a lot.

Blessing Owen.

Birthday cupcake! (I made it!)

She ate the whole thing.

Annual Smith-Hamway Easter Egg Hunt

Owen proved to be too good at finding eggs, much to the older kids' chagrin.

But the 5 year olds still cleaned house.

Adventures in Food and Drink

Lunch by myself at Core Life Eatery

A surprise visit to Salvatores for the best chicken pizza.

Never have to pester them about eating this meal.

Worth the extra-long walk in the stroller.

The icing tip my sister in law lent me that my garbage disposal ate for a snack. (No worries Melissa--it's been replaced! This picture was taken specifically so I could get the exact number/make!)

Probably my proudest moment in baking so far. Olivia's cupcakes.

Glucose challenge. Good news: I passed the diabetes test. Bad news: I'm anemic. But as my friend told me, "That's great! You still get to eat all the desserts and now you have every excuse to buy steak." I'm with her. 

James and Owen made an Easter Dirt Cake garden.

They did a great job! And Owen even came around to eating some once he realized that the dirt was not "veddy veddy stinky" and actually cookies.

Robin's Egg Speckled Coconut Malt cake. Mommy's contribution to the Easter table.

Easter desserts plus a random tub of hummus.

Speaking of Easter

Veddy veddy excited to see Nama, Papa, and Aunt Martha

How long do we get to stay?!?

The weather couldn't have been nicer. 

Kicking the ball down the hill...

...So that they could chase it and tumble in heaps at the bottom.

Will it fit in there?

Owen still managed to enjoy dirt of both varieties this Easter.

The hat! That face! Swoon.

Picking flowers for Mommy. And Nama. And Aunt Martha. And Aunt Melissa. And then some more for Mommy.

Toasting marshmallows.

James is getting quite good at it.

Date Night In: Take It Outside

Insert introduction about Ashley and her husband Gabe getting small, matching tattoos immediately after their wedding and then again to commemorate their tenth wedding anniversary. Roy and I plan to celebrate ten years of marriage this summer as well, but instead of a tattoo we’ll have a new baby. And then to actually celebrate we plan on going to Paris in the summer of 2018. Without children. With espresso and croissants and chocolate and wine. And cheese. And bread. And crepes…

This DNI came at a good time. I’ve found in pregnancy if I’m not getting enough iron I get nosebleeds. I had a dandy one a couple of days ago and started getting lightheaded on my daily walks, so knowing we’d be consuming a pound of high-quality beef seemed appropriate. And a nice ‘justification’ for spending $20 on .88 lbs of beef tenderloin. <gulp>

I thought this DNI would be pretty simple, relatively speaking. No salad, no homemade bread, no cocktail for me. I’ve made the dessert a dozen times already so nothing surprising there. It ended up being surprisingly frustrating and complicated.

Menu:

Kickin’ Kentucky Mule

Potato Chips with Fennel Coriander Salt

Roast Beef Tenderlois Sandwiches with Caramelized Onions, Horseradish Mayonaise, and Arugula

Salted Chocolate Chip Cookies

Let’s take this one item at a time in regards to preparation. The mule ended up being ginger ale, due to a lack of bourbon in the house and me not drinking. (Ginger ale was an alternative listed in the book, so we count it.) Owen helped me make ginger-lime syrup yesterday morning. He was quite helpful actually! He helped me put limes in the juicer, which took a long time since we needed over a dozen limes to reach a cup of fresh juice. He also helped me process 10 ounces of fresh ginger and stir in water and sugar. My new mini food processor ate that ginger for breakfast no problem. (Thank you KitchenAid!) 

The ingredients all came together nicely and I dipped my finger in for a taste…and almost threw up right there in the kitchen.

In normal life it didn’t taste bad. It was fine. But a wave of morning-sickness memories washed over me at that first drop. When I was pregnant with Owen I had a lot of nausea and a lot of well-meaning friends that suggested and brought me gingery things to take the edge off the icky. I’ve since enjoyed a little ginger in savory dishes but can’t say I’ve had anything especially sweet, and this triggered all of those real fun weeks of “please don’t make me eat or look at that.” The reminder was so strong I felt queasy for the next two hours!

Next up: slicing a single russet potato with a mandoline into “paper-thin slices 1/16 of an inch thick.” This is why we bought a mandoline. Well, it didn’t work so well. The potato refused to slice evenly across so I ended up with about 200 paper-thin half-renderings of “does that actually count as a potato slice?” I wanted to throw the tool across the kitchen after re-centering the potato a dozen times and experimenting with various techniques and angles to get an even slice. No dice. I was skeptical as to the outcome of such pathetic shards of potato.

Then I caramelized an onion. Ashley includes a mini essay on the virtues and definition of a true caramelization. I had read such sermons before. Apparently lay-chefs think you can heat up an onion for ten minutes and call it caramelized. But if you are a REAL cook it should take at least 45 minutes and up to several hours. I am rarely patient enough for such shenanigans, but the boys were napping and I had nowhere else to be. So I set my pan to a temperature so low I doubted it would even warm and checked it every ten minutes. Sure enough, in about an hour I had caramelized onions that were even and slightly crisp…almost like the French-fried onions that come in the can. Chalk up one success!

The fennel coriander salt was pretty easy. Lightly toasted a few spices and ground them up and mixed with salt. I feared for a minute that my spice grinder was broken, but I persisted and broke through its stubborn exterior. Hah!

The horseradish mayo sauce wasn’t executed to the best of my ability. I was confused as to what she meant by “prepared horseradish”. It obviously wasn’t just the plant, but did she mean jarred plant, or like Helmann’s horseradish sauce? I picked the sauce and I think that was the wrong choice. The sauce was OK, but it tasted mostly just like mayo. Roy said he was fine with it, but I wish I had gotten the authentic combination of ingredients.

THEN I seared $20 worth of beef tenderloin. The entire kitchen spattered with oil (a kitchen I had just wiped down from top to bottom that morning) but we got every side nicely browned and popped into the oven for a short roast. I took it out at the very earliest time recommended to check the internal temperature. And it was 30 degrees over what it should have been. I almost cried. “Roy, did I just ruin $20 worth of meat?!?” We decided to trust that our sear kept it from being completely dried out. When I sliced it an hour later we were relieved to see that, while not medium-rare, it wasn’t shoe leather either. An authentic well-done with moisture and tenderness. Just right for a pregnant woman. Obviously this was my plan…

Other steps included making cookie dough. Thankfully, this is something I could do in my sleep. No problem. I also had to deep fry those horrendous slices of potato. Deep frying is something I’m slowly getting used to. The Dutch oven we purchased helps a lot, and dang it if those chips didn’t turn out all crispy and lovely. Frustrating to have to wait 20 minutes just for the oil to heat, but the frying process was speedy and efficient. The slices were so small that the oil never really dropped in temperature, so I didn’t have to wait between batches. Slight redeeming factor for a lengthy process that gives me new appreciation for growing up in the snack capital of the world (sending “I Heart U’s” to Utz and Snyders right now…your chips are just as good and save me hours of frustration).

Finally we ate all this food. And it was really good. The ginger ale wasn’t that bad—the seltzer helped dilute the super strong ginger and the lime came through a bit more after a rest in the fridge. The sandwich and chips went together really nicely, and we knew dessert would be awesome.

These are my favorite cookies in the world. 

They caused a Christian woman I know to exclaim, on mic, in front of 50 people that “you cannot understand the true power of the Holy Spirit until you’ve eaten one of these cookies.” And a Christian man to whisper to me, “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but that is one DAMN good cookie.” The dark, high-quality chocolate, the trifecta of sugars that give a deep sweetness and slight crystallization to the texture, the flake salt on top. The soft height and chewy interior. They are perfection. These cookies make me look like I know what I’m doing in the kitchen. (Which, as most of this essay has proven, I really don’t.)

We usually eat them straight out of the oven, off the cooling rack, or snuck out of the container when we think no one is watching. But this particular batch were fresh, warm, and served up with French vanilla ice cream. And you know what? It was a damn good, Holy Spirit-filled dessert.

In spite of the challenges I don’t think we doubted that this food would taste good. It’s a roast beef sandwich, potato chips, soda, and cookies. Even if it’s not the best you’ve ever had it’s still going to be palatable. And this food was really very good. I’m not sure it was worth all the labor. The cookies, yes, but they don’t really take that long. I doubt I’ll ever make ginger ale again, or potato chips. I might try to make good roast beef again, but probably with a different cut of meat and definitely a different strategy to temperature. And real horseradish.

The arugula was really hard to find too.

"Through all the changes, big and small, we know that for as long as we can help it, there will be an us. We’ve got the tattoos spit-up and Eiffel Tower keychains to prove it.”

                -Ashley Rodriguez, NWS, p. 74

A weekend to remember

Occasionally you are given a gift so wonderful you have to record it for posterity. Such a gift happened to me this weekend (and is still happening).

Thursday night I was at a church choir rehearsal when my Fitbit buzzed, indicating I had a text. It was Roy, “So, what do you want to do tomorrow night? :D” I grabbed my phone and was informed that my mother in law had offered to take the boys for an overnight, giving us a full 24 hours to ourselves. Additionally, Roy would be gone on Saturday for most of the day, giving me a full 8 hours to MYSELF. You’ve never seen a more smiley Messiah alto in your life.

Friday night came, the boys were safely deposited, slightly damp, into the backseat of Mom’s car, excited for pizza and toys and Aunt Martha (even though I told them repeatedly she wouldn’t be there). I drove home in utter silence, shutting the radio off and listening to the rain drum on the windshield. I arrived home and began a nice dinner we could enjoy as a couple without distraction or complaint. Roast chicken in the oven, potatoes gently simmering on the stovetop, carrots brushed with coriander and sweet maple, ready to roast. I had Friends on my iPad, providing a familiar soundtrack to my stirring and chopping. The entire hour was completely therapeutic.

We ate in silence, appreciating every forkful at our leisure. Then we pondered half a dozen options as to how to spend our free evening. Poking around the mall won out (I can’t resist the allure of Williams and Sonoma) and we walked for two hours, skipping the Lego store and carousel and opting instead to browse the suit coats, professional attire, and kitchen gadgetry (because Williams and Sonoma). We were able to nab a quick ice cream right as everything shut down at 9:30 and swapped bites of chocolate next to the fountains. The two hours were completely therapeutic.

I woke up the next morning at 9:20AM. Only slightly embarrassed, I whipped up lemon ricotta pancakes with homemade lemon curd and raspberry jam. We ate, again, largely in silence, savoring the tart sweetness of a fancy brunch. Easy conversation was had over the pancakes and Roy's excellent coffee. He left at 11 and I...went back to bed. I half dozed, half watched Netflix until 1. The two hours were completely therapeutic.

Then I got up, took a long hot shower, ironed my clothes for the afternoon, and headed to Webster. I walked through Kohls, finding a pair of rain boots on sale (plus 20% discount and $5 off coupon…I heart Kohls). I looked for pretty yellow spatulas like what I had seen at W&S the night before, but alas, nothing even close. Anytime I find something in the precise shade of yellow as my mixer I dream of color-coordinating. Then I walked over to Target and meandered the aisles, looking at everything and nothing simultaneously. By 3PM I was in Core Life Eatery for a quick bite before church. The restaurant was largely empty, and I sat at a booth in silence, enjoying rice noodles, fresh vegetables, and steak gently steamed in broth. It was so stinking good. Each minute that passed brought a little more restoration to my mind, soul, and body. The two and a half hours were completely therapeutic.

And then I drove to church and led a peaceful Saturday service and welcomed my boys with open arms at the conclusion of the service. I was delighted to see them and they were equally excited to share their adventures with me. A change of location did us all a great deal of good.

This morning I am not at church, because we are going to a birthday party at 11AM. It’s my first Sunday off of church music since October. It is, once again, largely quiet in the house. Coffee is being sipped and I’m reminded of what Sabbath actually means. Chaos will rule once we arrive at the party I’m sure, and the introvert in us all will rear its ugly head, but maybe, just maybe, we have filled our tanks enough to get through the next stretch with more laughter and grace for ourselves and the world.

Thankful for this gift. If you helped facilitate it (Mom, Dad, Aunt Martha, Williams and Sonoma, Core Life Eatery, etc...) I am grateful in a way I can only truly express through the quiet shine in my eyes.